


You Say It All (When You Say Nothing At All)

by Lady_Firefly



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Crushes, Double Entendre, F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 10:28:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7887682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Firefly/pseuds/Lady_Firefly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes something so innocuous can sound so sinful... when it falls from the right lips and reaches the right ears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Say It All (When You Say Nothing At All)

Jon tried for the umpteenth time to slide the wet, frazzled thread through the unbelievably tiny eye of the needle. For the millionth time the saggy thread didn’t even try to go through the eye and Jon let his arms fall to his sides with a frustrated grunt. _How did Sansa make it look so damn easy?_

 

_Sansa._

 

Obviously she made it look easy simply by the virtue of being herself. Pretty, perfect, pouty-lipped Sansa Stark. His crush-omnipresent since he had started to understand what crushes were.

 

His was the typically clichéd crush. Falling for his best friend’s baby sister when he was himself just on the cusp of teenage. But it had been easier to ignore his feelings, push them to the back burner rather than act on them and loose his best friend and possibly disrupt his whole life. After all, Robb’s friendship and support was responsible for a lot of who he was today. If Jon’s best friend hadn’t pushed him, he would never have pursued his childhood dream of becoming a journalist and become the sought after war correspondent that he was today. It was Robb who had soothed and assured him that although his father had threatened to disown him the day Jon had first informed him of his decision to be a journalist, but one day he would be so proud of Jon that Jon would be embarrassed of his bragging. 

 

Robb’s words had come true. Rhaegar Targaryen had been doing the rounds of the cruise ship with a copy of the two month old Westeros Times with the cover story of the Meereenese war zone written by Jon Targaryen clutched to his chest, showing it to whoever was interested and shoving it to the face of whoever was not, and Jon was suitably mortified. 

 

So he owed Robb a lot.

 

Problem was Sansa Stark was back in his life after almost 9 long years; and if she had been beautiful before, she was a freaking Goddess now. 

 

Although Jon hadn’t seen her through the 5 long years of graduate and post-graduate school, of course he had _known_ what his best friend’s sister number 1 had been up to. He knew Sansa had gone on to finish her fashion designing course in Dorne and then she had gone on to work and gain experience in fashion capital of Westeros - Lys - itself. 

 

But now she was back and she seemed to be looking to put down roots in Wintertown itself and that had meant instant trouble for Jon. Because he found himself escalating from his crush to wanting to put down roots with Sansa-Robb-Stark’s-Little-Sister-Stark. He knew they had both had relationships in the past years, but he had been single for two years now. A war zone wasn’t exactly the most romance inducing location. And Sansa seemed completely unattached and available since she had moved back closer to home a couple of months back.

 

Worse still was the fact that for the first time in her life, she seemed to be aware of Jon. _As aware as he had always been of her._ Since she had come back, Jon had never seemed to get away with staring uninterruptedly at her, drinking in her beauty, for more than a few minutes without her looking up at him and catching him red-handed. And then there was that soft look in her gaze… that look that was sort of an encouragement. As if she was beckoning him to take the next step ahead.

 

But Jon knew if fooling around with her when they had both been teenager had been a bad idea, now it was a worse idea. The currents that passed between them when their eyes locked said none of them were gonna be satisfied with fooling around anymore. And with Jon’s precarious profession and her still being Robb’s sister, he had a lot of thoughts to process through before he could actually go ahead and ask her out 15 years after he had first wanted to. 

 

Now he was stuck on a freaking luxury yacht along the coasts of the Dorne on a cruise from the Jade Sea through the Summer Sea to the Sunset Sea. All of this beautiful, romantic vista surrounding them and Jon’s whole consciousness is wrapped up in Sansa.

 

Jon was so engrossed in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the padded door of his cabin opening and when he looked up, he was sure it was his obsession that had brought Sansa to life in front of her.

 

Sansa tilted her head to the side, noting the needle and thread in his hands, looking an utterly breathtaking vision in a burnt orange silk jersey dress that brought her hair into riotous focus. “All ok there, tough guy? Robb _was_ right! Formal wear does have you all tied up in knots!”

 

There was a faint teasing note in her chuckling voice and Jon’s lips twitched inadvertently. “And even then, he couldn’t be bothered to check up on his friend himself?” He had to think for only a second though, “Jeyne looking killer tonight?”

 

“Spaghetti straps and _miles_ of legs.” Sansa confirmed his suspicions and Jon whistled in a manner that conveyed that he knew how much pain his best friend was in right now. 

 

He looked Sansa over again, his tongue too tied by his suddenly constricted heart to form any coherent compliment. He tried hard and swallowed. He cleared his throat before saying, “I have it all under control, except for these damn buttons. They stand out so blatantly... black against the crisp white shirt. Everyone would notice the missing one in the middle of my torso. But it snapped somehow in the luggage and I only this formal shirt with me... I was trying to sew the spare button on and…”

 

Sansa looked at him indulgently and suddenly stepped closer to him. “Well, I guess you don't have much need for formal shirts when you have a whole closet full of camouflages, huh? Mr. War Hero, let me give you a lesson.”

 

She deftly took the thread and needle from his fingers, her slightly cooler ones brushing his warm ones and he felt the shiver in both of their fingers as a result. He swallowed as Sansa lowered her head and seemed to examine the thread. “See that’s your problem. You drenched the thread too much.” 

 

Jon watched as Sansa bent down and picking up the small scissor, cut off the end of the thread which was wet with his spit. Then she looked up at him and said with focus, “See, you just have to get the tip wet enough…” She put the thread past her lips and swiped it with her tongue once. 

 

 _Little Jon almost instantly raised its head in attention._ Jon cursed inwardly and tried to think of his friend Samwell Tarly trying to jog on the treadmill and falling face first every time he took a step. That usually worked in these situation _every single time._

 

He had never tried it with his lifelong crush before though and only realized how ineffectual it was with Sansa Stark when she spoke in an efficient manner next. “Next, you just have to make sure it sticks up stiffly, and then it slides right in!”

 

She looked up at his eyes as the thread went through the needle’s eye and the air crackled.

 

Jon knew instantly that she realized what she was saying… how she was saying it and what double meanings were involved. Jon also knew that she knew he was on to the double entendre like white on rice. 

 

Heat bloomed in Sansa’s cheeks instantly, making her eyes seem as blue as sapphires and she hurriedly stepped back. Jon cleared his throat loudly too to break the awkwardness that suddenly filled the cabin.

 

Jon fully expected her to flee the room judging by the warmth of her cheeks, but she held her hands up and it took a moment for Jon to realize she was holding up the threaded needle. He took one step closer as his hand closed around her fingers, and surprise of surprises, she didn’t snatch her fingers and run away.

 

“Will you be ok with the sewing?” She sounded so endearingly shy that Jon felt his fingers tightening around hers. 

 

“I think I’ll manage… thanks to your help with the hardest part.” He didn’t know why but his voice came out all low and hushed, like he was sharing secrets with her.

 

Sansa lowered her head, but Jon could swear her lips twitch humorously and then she was hurrying away to the door of his cabin.

 

Just before she closed the door behind herself, she turned her head and said hesitantly, “Hey, Jon? If people were to… you know ask out people… with a buildup of 15 years… they might wanna do it on a uberly romantic cruise ship around the Southern Westeros… you know, theoretically speaking.”

 

Jon nodded his head too eagerly as he took a step towards her and said in cautious manner people used not to scare off little animals, “I'm sure people would wanna make sure they got it exactly right the first time they asked someone out after all that buildup... but they would do it alright… as soon as they mustered up the courage… theoretically speaking, of course.”

 

Sansa bit her lower lip as her smile widened and Jon almost bridged the gap between them and pulled her into his arms. But before he could do anything, she turned to leave and said over her shoulder, “Of course, even theoretically speaking, we have to remember it isn’t war strategies and hence do not warrant so much preemptive cautiousness… And you can now sew your button on…” She looked over at him one last time with twinkles in her eyes as she said with a saucy grin, “The… _thread_ is not wet anymore and… _it_ … has gone considerably limp for you to work it through the whole process.”

 

With that she was gone and a softly cursing Jon was left looking down at the floor where the much-talked-about thread-and-needle had fallen to after Sansa’s parting remark.

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I wrote to make me feel better after my last update..


End file.
